Object Lessons
by KarotsaMused
Summary: Sometimes forgiveness has to be spoken aloud. For Kyoichi, actions are louder than words. Kyoichi/Tatsuma/Hisui and an antique sofa.


A/N: The first time I ever saw Hisui, I thought _man, this kid's pretty_ and the rest went downhill from there. Since Tokyo Majin is so impenetrable in terms of figuring out the stupid storyline, Hisui was always the pretty angsty kid. Like Kyoichi was big-hair and Tatsuma was cutie.

So anyway, in this one, pretty angsty, big-hair and cutie come to an understanding. It's a little bit of closure where the anime didn't particularly fill the void. Set in the beginning of season two. Rating for language and m/m/m. Without my Bean, I would be adrift in a betaless sea.

* * *

><p>Kyoichi didn't particularly think of himself as an unforgiving person. He had a lot of compassion in him, where it was hidden and he couldn't get beat up over it. He could give anyone the benefit of the doubt. People were people, and nine times of ten they didn't actually want to screw you.<p>

But, like any _sane_ human, there were a few things Kyoichi found himself unable to forgive. They were generally pretty big things, along the lines of abandonment, betrayal, negligence. Things that fucked other people up. Doing something to knowingly hurt another person in a little way was called being a dick, but the big, irreparable things? The things that didn't _actually_ need to happen? That made you deficient. Some kind of monster.

For example, just pulling one out of the blue, _killing Aoi_. A girl that goody-goody could be given a nuke that'd destroy the entire world and she wouldn't push the button. In effect, she _had_. Even if she'd been some kind of crazy bitch that might've actually made trouble, the man who had sworn on his life to protect her should have kept his damn' word. Did Kyoichi like protecting the girls from some of their impolite patrons? Not all the time. But did he? Obviously. He was a respectable man, if not by everyone's standards, at least by his own.

He knew Aoi would never harm anyone and he'd hardly known her. How could someone who'd known her all her life ever think she'd be capable of it either? To manage it, he had to have had a serious case of head-in-ass. In Kyoichi's opinion, someone like that didn't particularly deserve too much forgiveness.

And Hisui hadn't asked for it, even when Kyoichi'd been proved right, so Kyoichi saw no reason to fill the air with useless words.

Tatsuma, however, was goddamn _Tatsuma_ about the whole thing. And he'd waited to spring it until Kyoichi was pinned beneath him, completely unable to say no.

Tatsuma said, "Kyoichi. I think you should apologize to Hisui."

Kyoichi said, "Fuck, don't _stop_."

Tatsuma said, "_Kyoichi._"

Kyoichi said, "Yeah, yes. Okay."

Tatsuma smiled at him, his eyes half-lidded. "Tell him there's no hard feelings, you know?" If he knew he was making a pun, he gave no sign. "You know his guilt is eating him alive."

"Wh-what's it matter if I-"

"Come on, Kyoichi, he does _want_ your forgiveness."

Kyoichi panted, frowned. "Y'asked him?"

Tatsuma sighed, looking almost sad. He paused long enough to make Kyoichi squirm, and murmured, "I didn't have to."

* * *

><p>Tatsuma didn't let Kyoichi chew on it long. He had a day to wonder just what the hell Tatsuma meant by telling Hisui he'd forgiven him. Wondering what the hell he meant to accomplish, and whether or not he wanted to.<p>

To Kyoichi, the guilt over deciding to kill Aoi could have been assuaged by _not doing it_.

Tatsuma had asked him to come by the antique shop with him. To skip afternoon classes and go for a long walk. He'd agreed, taking his time about it. Tatsuma seemed comfortable beside him, the two of them walking like they had all the time in the world. They even stopped for lunch, barely talking to one another. Kyoichi wanted to ask him what the hell he was trying to pull. If Tatsuma thought that he was going to step in on Hisui's own turf and say he was sorry for something he knew in his gut was still the right thing, he had another thing coming. He didn't regret defending Aoi. Didn't regret beating on Hisui for being an idiot. They both knew that; when it came down to wrecking that lipstick-wearing son of a bitch and his mommy issues, Hisui was beside him. That was the point. There didn't need to be any more talking.

He'd have thought Tatsuma would get that. They'd always known each other better for their actions than their words. Wait-

Kyoichi had the distinct feeling he was on to something about six feet from the door of the antique shop. There was no reasonable way Tatsuma could expect him to apologize. But he meant something by being there.

Hisui had been expecting only Tatsuma, and that much was obvious. His mild expression of welcome closed off as soon as Kyoichi shouldered through the door after him.

Hisui said, "What was it you needed, Tatsuma?"

Tatsuma smiled, his hands easy in his pockets. "May we sit? There's a conversation I've been wanting to have."

Hisui's suspicion gentled at Tatsuma's tone. He gestured to a claw-footed sofa with dark red upholstery. Tatsuma blinked at it, then smiled. "This is new."

Hisui started talking about the sofa as he came closer. It was blah years old and blah this and owned by some fancy-ass rich person with fucking awful taste. Kyoichi came to stand by the arm of the sofa. Tatsuma sat. Hisui watched them both, then sat on the other end.

Tatsuma listened like he cared about what Hisui was saying. He even asked questions. Goddamn Tatsuma.

Kyoichi felt his own tension winding tighter. He watched Hisui refuse to look at him, heard Tatsuma talking, but hardly took any of it in. Hisui was acting like he wasn't even there. He always had - treated him like an idiot, refused to listen to him, told him to shut up, and that was Hisui's thing. Fucking holier-than-thou on-a-mission little protector who turned yellow when Aoi needed him the most. Kyoichi's hand tightened on his sword.

If Tatsuma noticed at all, he didn't give any sign. He just said, easy as anything, "Anyway. We're here because we get it."

Almost at the same time, Kyoichi spat, "Get what?" and Hisui murmured, "Pardon?"

Tatsuma looked up at Kyoichi and smiled. "We do. We both know what it's like to feel like the group fuck-up."

Kyoichi gritted his teeth and looked away. "Are you seriously pulling this touchy-feely shit."

Tatsuma sort of sighed. He said, "Ye-ah, I thought it was a good idea to start with. I guess I'm still not very good at saying what I mean."

Kyoichi looked over in time to see Hisui rise, his hands empty at his sides, his posture straight. "Excuse me," he said, moving to turn away.

Tatsuma launched himself forward and caught Hisui's wrist. "Hold on."

If it were anyone other than Tatsuma, Kyoichi knew he'd have been thrown across the room. Hisui looked like a wiry little bastard, but he was solid muscle, just like Tatsuma was. But for Tatsuma, who was so solemn and so mild, Hisui waited.

Tatsuma pulled, and Kyoichi knew it the instant before Hisui decided not to catch his own balance. He watched them kissing and wondered if it was smarter to be pissed off or turned on.

After Kyoichi had given up counting the seconds, Tatsuma pulled back. Hisui said, "Oh."

Tatsuma said, "That's what I meant." He stroked his thumb over Hisui's wrist and glanced over his shoulder at Kyoichi. "Kyoichi?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," said Kyoichi, running a hand through his hair.

Tatsuma smiled at him, like he'd known it would work out. Like he'd taken a risk but now things were going the way he'd hoped. It was Tatsuma playing by ear, and it drove Kyoichi fucking crazy as much as it attracted him. He said, "You mad?"

Kyoichi was close enough to smack Tatsuma in the back of the head. Hisui didn't flinch, but his eyes had again turned wary. Like he was figuring stuff out for himself, too. Hell, it wasn't like he and Tatsuma had been super obvious.

Tatsuma started to laugh, even as he rubbed the spot Kyoichi had hit. "Okay."

Hisui took a step back, though his wrist was still in Tatsuma's grip. "Whatever it is you think you're doing-"

"He's saying we're a goddamn' team," said Kyoichi. He put his weight on one leg and narrowed his eyes. "Even if you're a stupid sonofabitch sometimes."

Hisui's jaw clenched. "I would have expected more from Tatsuma, but you don't surprise me in the least."

Kyoichi felt Tatsuma's hand on his wrist, the grip solid and firm. He looked down instead of responding, realized his hand had curled into a fist. He thought about how good it would feel to punch Hisui in his pretty face.

And then thought about Tatsuma saying that the guilt had to be eating Hisui alive. He'd made his amends with Aoi by cutting her hair. She'd trusted him with a blade that near her eye, her throat, and he'd done it. But they were a team, and Hisui, ever on the edges, hadn't gotten the chance with anyone else.

That wasn't Kyoichi's fault. Hell, it was up to Hisui to do it, wasn't it? But when would he ever get the chance?

Kyoichi growled, low in his throat.

Hisui said, "What, can't you think of anything to say to me?"

"Plenty," he ground out, holding himself back. He pulled his sword down off of his shoulder and leaned it up against the sofa, so his hands were empty. So he could reach out with one hand and curl it in Hisui's collar and yank him, hard, so he stumbled forward. He saw Hisui's eyes narrow before he kissed him, keeping his own eyes open and alert.

Hisui bit him, hard. So Kyoichi, still holding on, bit back. He wasn't going to take it, feeling his own anger well up in response. Like Tatsuma could just do whatever the hell he wanted and be accepted for it, while Kyoichi had to sit and watch. He deserved an apology just as much as the next guy. Just as much as Hisui had to realize that he understood. That Hisui had been the weaker man, but that didn't mean he had anything left to prove.

Somewhere around the time Kyoichi had to close his eyes, it felt like maybe Hisui started to get it. He stopped acting like Kyoichi was taking advantage and instead got a handful of his hair and didn't let go. It kind of pulled, but Kyoichi didn't mind. He was kind of a bad kisser, but that wasn't so bad either. Kyoichi thought, that just meant he could learn, then realized he wouldn't mind teaching.

And then Hisui moaned and shivered at the same time, and Kyoichi wondered when the hell Tatsuma had let go of his wrist. He'd gotten both arms around Hisui, but there was something pressed up against the back of his hands. And when he opened his eyes again and saw Tatsuma's mouth on the side of Hisui's neck, the realization hit him hard.

To his credit, Hisui didn't try to pull back until Kyoichi started it, then stayed close, pressed right up against him. "Stupid," said Kyoichi.

"Kettle," breathed Hisui, "thou art black."

"Nh?" said Kyoichi, frowning. "The fuck does a kettle have to-"

Tatsuma smiled at Kyoichi over Hisui's shoulder, and reached between them, untucking Hisui's shirt from his pants. "He means you're stupid too, Kyoichi."

Hisui's hands tightened on Kyoichi's shoulders. "Tatsuma."

"Oh, no, don't stop because of me. I'm happy right here." He tucked his nose up under Hisui's ear, a surprisingly affectionate gesture. "Unless you want me to move?"

Hisui said, "Ah."

Kyoichi said, "Just let him. He gets like this."

"Often?"

Kyoichi shrugged, then, finding a smile. It was a little easier, with Hisui's aloofness totally broken, to smile at him. "'Bout as often as I do."

"Oh, hell," said Hisui, his voice dry. Kyoichi couldn't help but laugh.

"Stop acting like it's a bad thing," said Tatsuma softly, his eyes closed. "It's not."

Hisui frowned a little. Kyoichi watched him, then realized how the bastard was thinking, and snorted. "You don't want us to fuck on that couch, do you?"

Hisui turned a brilliant pink from the chest up. "It's an antique, you barbarian."

"So do we have to leave, then?" asked Kyoichi, wondering when the hell he'd learned to read Hisui and finding himself unable to stop.

Especially when Hisui gave him a glare that could have just as easily been a smile. "Tatsuma can stay."

"I bet you sleep upstairs," said Kyoichi, grinning.

Tatsuma said, "You take his legs."

Kyoichi smirked, Hisui growled. "Just try it."

"Don't have to. I think you're going to show us where you sleep."

Hisui stared him down, but Kyoichi didn't flinch. Tatsuma waited, his eyes closed, his expression mild.

Hisui breathed, "It's just a mat."

"We can work with that. No trouble at all."

"So accommodating," muttered Hisui. But he put his hands on Tatsuma's wrists and pushed, rolling his shoulders out of Kyoichi's grip. He turned away from them and started walking, his posture straight and easy. But his hair was messy, and his shirt was untucked, and there was a bit of a pink mark at the base of his throat.

Kyoichi reached for his sword; Tatsuma grabbed him and kissed him hard.

Kyoichi said, "-nn."

Tatsuma pulled back and smiled at him, before following Hisui. For a moment, Kyoichi watched their backs, then snorted to himself. One of these days, Tatsuma was going to play it wrong and they were going to get into a hell of a lot of trouble.

This day, though, there was Hisui and Tatsuma, and a mat in a room with a door that locked. That was good enough for him.


End file.
